


Ain't No Rest For The Wicked

by eddiewrites307



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, angsty, bucky is Traumatized, highly based on my own intrusive thoughts, seriously heavy guys, short and dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 07:20:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20811224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eddiewrites307/pseuds/eddiewrites307
Summary: Trauma leaves it's mark on the best of us.





	Ain't No Rest For The Wicked

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was, first and foremost, a soldier.

He was, secondly, a murderer.

Third, he was human. And humans had one thing many did not; trauma.

~   
_ Kill them.  _ _   
_

_ Rip them all apart with your bare hands. _

_ Throw a knife at the crowd and see who gets hit. _

_ Kill yourself. _

_ Kill yourself. _

_ Kill yourself. _

_ Kill yourself. _

~   


Bucky woke up with an aching head and racing thoughts. He looked over at the other side of the bed, only to find it empty.

Right. Steve was on a mission in France with Stark.

He got up, rubbing a hand over his morning stubble and slowly rising, walking into the bathroom and grabbing his razor.

_ Slit your remaining wrist. _

_ Rid the world of your baggage. _

_ Kill yourself. _

Bucky wearily shook his head, putting the razor down and leaving the bathroom, determined to continue his day.

~   


Ever since the Winter Soldier had been molded into Bucky Barnes once more, he found that the Soldier never really left. He was a permanent presence inside Bucky’s head,  one that liked to make himself known at any given moment.

These, Bucky learned from his SHIELD-mandated therapist, were called ‘intrusive thoughts’. 

New century really did have a word for damn near everything.

~   


Bucky made his way down to the common area of the Tower, heavily armed although still clad in pajama pants and an old shirt of Steves.

Natasha was the only one visible, though he had no doubt Clint was hidden somewhere as well. She nodded to Bucky, who returned it.

_ She trusts you. _

_ How easy would it be to just go over there and wrap your hand around her little throat? _ _   
_

_ You could pull out that pretty red hair. _

_ Sink your teeth into her jugular. _

Bucky growled low, under his breath, his metal hand curling into a fist as he resisted the urge to smack his own head, just to get the Soldier to stop. Natasha, who saw and heard everything and therefore knew about the Soldier, winced sympathetically and tried to look as non-threatening as possible, something very difficult when Bucky knew her past and skill set.

“ ‘M fine.” Buck mumbled, and Natasha relaxed minutely and smiled slightly at him. He grunted in response, going to pour himself some coffee.

He took a long, slow sip, taking a moment to fully wake up. The night was not a pleasant one, filled with night terrors and dreams of vivid red.

Clint dropped from the ceiling, his timing impeccable as always. “Heya Buck, what’s crackalackin’?” The archer said, completely oblivious to the tension in the room. Bucky didn’t have to turn around to see the Look Natasha had to be giving Clint.

_ Kill him. _

_ He has a knife, you have a knife, it’s fair game. _

_ Smash his head into the counter and watch his teeth scatter. _

He grimaced, putting down his mug with more force them strictly necessary.

_ Break the mug. _

_ Dig the shards into your flesh. _

“Fuck off.” He grunted, quietly enough so Natasha and Clint wouldn’t hear him and get more concerned then they probably already were

Thankfully, silence rang.

~   


It didn’t take long for Bucky to finish his coffee and head to the gym for a therapeutic workout session.

He wrapped his hand, making sure he wouldn’t break or dislocate anything again, before hitting at the old leather punching bag with as much force as he could muster in his flesh arm.

_ Worthless. _

_ Coward. _

_ Freak. _

_ Monster. _

_ Killer. _

With each cold word the Soldier whispered in his mind, Bucky punched harder and harder, the bad creaking under duress. 

_ Unworthy. _

The chain broke, and the bag went flying across the room, leaving Bucky staring after it, chest heaving, hand aching, mind racing.

The Soldier smiled, knowing he had won.

_ Unworthy.  _ He repeated.  _ Unworthy of this life, unworthy of trust, of companionship.  _

_ Unworthy of Steve. _

Bucky dug his nails into his human hand, standing in silence for a long moment, before he let out a blood-curdling scream and his hand went to his hair, grabbing a chunk and pulling as he hunched over-

_ Unworthy of Steve. _

Bucky screamed again-

_ Unworthy of Steve. _

Tears began to stream down his face, snot clumping in his nose as his skin went blotchy and red-

_ Unworthy of Steve. _

You’re wrong you’re wrong you’re wrong you’re wrong-

_ Unworthy of Steve. _

The Soldier repeated and repeated and repeated and repeated and repeated until-

Until a strong, warm hand descended on Bucky’s shoulder.

Until Bucky was turned around and pulled into a muscled chest, a familiar scent surrounding him, overwhelming him.

That voice, that deep, beautiful voice, saying, “It’s okay Bucky, it’s okay, you’re safe, I’m here and you’re safe. You’re safe.”   


Steve was here.

Steve was here, and the Soldier was silenced.

Bucky was safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I know this won't be completely accurate to everyone's experiences and that's ok, it's accurate to mine and that's what it's based off of. Everyone is different. If you have intrusive thoughts, don't be afraid to reach out to a professional. I love you guys.


End file.
